The Perfect Man
by Miratete
Summary: Several regular characters disappeared at the transition from the Adventure Series to the Racing Series, including Scott and T-Bob, who had been in every episode up until then. Here's one possibility of what happened to the latter, a response to Zarius' "A Barely Shaken Serving" and my attempt at one of the most unlikely couples in the MASK universe.
1. The Perfect Man

**The Perfect Man**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Vanessa Warfield opened the door to her house and walked inside. It wasn't really her house, but the guest house on the Mayhem estate. She had convinced Miles to let her live there, a place away from the hubbub and the drama that went on inside of the mansion.

Ro-Man was right there to greet her, a silver tray in his hands, a White Russian in a frosty glass upon it. "Welcome back," he said in his cheerful voice. "I thought about you a lot while you were away."

Her poisonous mood couldn't even be maintained through that devoted comment. "Thanks, Ro-Man." She took the glass and took a big bold drink from it. "Mmmmm...perfect."

"Thank you!" he said cheerfully, his eyes squinting into a mouthless smile.

She slumped onto the bench in the entryway and the robot pulled off her boots and then unzipped her uniform. She stepped out of it and the robot held open the blue and white cotton yukata she liked to wear around the house. She slipped into it and headed for the living room while he took the discarded jumpsuit to the laundry. And then he headed for the bathroom. Next he drew water for a long hot bath, the temperature balanced to be exactly 105° F in fifteen minutes after the tub had absorbed some of the heat, right about the time she finished her first cocktail. And then he headed to the kitchen to make her second one.

"Did you follow the race again?" Vanessa called from the couch in living room.

"I did. Not only did I think about you a lot, I was worried about you too."

"I'm all right. It will take a lot more than getting shot down to stop me."

"I know, but I still worried."

Vanessa smirked. The robot had been instructed to worry. She had instructed him on a lot of things, like how to make a perfect White Russian and at what temperature she liked her bath and what to do when she returned home. And he would do it all cheerfully and eagerly and obediently, giving his utmost to please her. And while he could be a tad clumsy at times, he was so easily forgiven.

He worked enthusiastically at any task assigned, as long as he didn't have to leave home. The moment he set foot off of the estate, a strange panic mode would set in and he would beg and whine and cajole and do anything to return to familiar territory. This sometimes came into conflict with his intense devotion to her, for he seemed happiest when she was within earshot. He would work away happily in the next room doing laundry or cleaning or cooking. At night when he shut down it was on the the floor beside her bed. When she wandered the gardens he walked with her, usually holding her hand in a childlike fashion. That had led to some teasing from some of the other agents about her 'boyfriend.' Usually she just glared at them, and that would shut them up. Rax went too far one afternoon when he asked what sort of attachments the robot was using to keep her happy. He steered clear of her for several weeks after she answered with a few solid punches and a spiteful kick to his attachments.

"Hey Ro-Man, I noticed there are roses planted along the pathway up to the house. Did you tell Sly that they had to be white?" She hated pink and red roses, along with Valentine's Day and romantic movies.

"I planted them myself actually, and yes, they are white. I chose the variety myself. They're called White Dawn and they're a climbing rose, so I'll have a pergola or trellis installed."

"You're a gem, Ro-Man."

"Thank you," he chirped, coming into the room and sitting beside her.

She looked him up and down, the strange mannequin who had become the man in her life, a piece of stolen MASK equipment. And those slags would never know what had happened to him. And if they ever did, what a shock it would be to find him here.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Bruce Sato pored through the pages of his oversized sketchbook, sometimes flipping back and forth between two, left hand between the leaves and right hand wielding a pen like a surgeon's scalpel, cutting and excising. But sometimes he used the pen to create, jotting in connections and circuits, adding notes and thoughts into the margins.

T-Bob's rebuild had been his obsession of late. After the robot's near destruction in the mountains of New Zealand, Bruce had put hours and hours into redesigning a new housing for what was left of T-Bob. The scooter assembly would not be a part of the new version, but instead there would be better limbs and better circuitry. The whole body could be taller and thinner now that it did not have to contain a tire and an engine. A bit of grace would replace the rotund wobble.

And then he noticed that Matt was staring at him.

"Your dinner's getting cold," said Trakker. "The waitress brought it five minutes ago."

Bruce turned aside from the notebook. Sure enough, there was his crusted salmon with lemon butter and wild rice waiting for him. "I hadn't even noticed the waitress had brought it," he admitted guiltily. He lay aside his notebook and pulled his dinner onto his place mat.

Matt picked up his knife and fork again and resumed his meal. "I can see why your wife left you."

Sato stifled a laugh. Years ago a well-meaning somebody had put together a directory of all the businesses and employees working in the office complex his toymaking workshop was located in. And somehow he had been confused with another Mr. Sato. His mini-biography mentioned a wife and kids, much to the amusement of his friends. "The neglectful farmer should not be surprised to find his cattle eating in the neighbor's field," he quipped.

After a few more bites, Trakker put down his fork again. "Did you give any thought to the additional circuitry I mentioned?"

Bruce, mid-bite, nodded.

"And you'll include it?"

Again he nodded. "I think it's for the best."

Trakker sighed. "We just can't tell Scott. I don't know how he'd react if he knew such a thing existed. I don't know if he'd be in agreement or angry or hurt or what."

"T-Bob won't even know himself, until the need for such arises."

"You can program him that way?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do it."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was Bruno using Magna-Beam that made the capture, and he was looking forward to the fat little bonus Mayhem had promised. The robot struggled against his captors, fighting back hard enough to make their job difficult but never enough to cause them injury. In time he was subdued and lashed to stairway railing.

"So, robot, we have you now," gloated Mayhem. "Time for you to tell us a few things."

"I know a good recipe for chicken chow mein. Would you like me to tell you that?" T-Bob slipped easily into clueless mode when feeling threatened. "First you take a pound of boneless, skinless chicken breasts, four celery stalks, one medium onion..."

"Shut up!" growled Mayhem. "You're going to tell us a few things about MASK."

"Mask? What mask? Majora's Mask? I could beat that game with my eyes closed."

Bruno came forward, a large wrench in one hand and an automotive toolbox in the other. "Want me to start pulling him apart, Boss? I'm not good with computers by I can strip an engine in no time flat."

Mayhem laughed sardonically and held up his hand to stay the thug. "No need. We're going to do this the intelligent way."

"You actually have intelligence?" asked the robot.

"How cute. Someone's programmed him to insult us," Vanessa commented.

Mayhem turned away. "You two keep an eye on him. "I'm going to go get Ranjit."

A few hours later Mayhem returned with a small, wiry Indian man, his dark features accented by the horn-rimmed glasses he wore. T-Bob did not recognize him as one of the usual VENOM agents.

"Here he is, as promised," said Mayhem as he gestured to the subdued mechanoid, still tied to the stair railing.

Ranjit smiled. "Oh very nice. Very nice." On the table he set down the to-go coffee mug and the equipment case he was carrying and approached T-Bob. "I've never seen his model before."

"We think he's a custom job."

"Yes. Most likely. Very nice. Very nice. I am looking forward to this." He went back to the table and began to unpack his bag, removing tools and opening cases of neatly wound cables. He opened up a laptop computer and switched it on. "I am looking forward to this very much." And then Ranjit pulled on a pair of thin canvas gloves with rubber fingertips and hung a doctor's stethoscope around his neck as the others looked on curiously.

He went to the robot, smiling confidently. First he checked the restraints, and satisfied that they were secure he began to examine T-Bob. Ranjit soon discovered how to pop open the master panel and eject the circuit boards. "Hey! Those are private!" huffed T-Bob indignantly and he retracted the panels as quickly as the man could eject them.

Ranjit chuckled. "They won't be private for much longer." As he ejected what he decided to be the motor control panel he quickly wedged a screwdriver into the slot it had come from, effectively preventing the robot from retracting it. "Not much longer at all," he said, a hint of maliciousness in his voice.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"What the...T-Bob?"

"So that's what you called him."

"What the heck is he doing here? I mean, we know VENOM captured him, but..."

"May I take your jacket, Sir?" said the robot politely, extending an arm to Vanessa's guest.

"Yes...yes of course." He stared at the robot. It was unmistakably T-Bob—the taller, thinner incarnation of T-Bob that Bruce had designed after the incident in New Zealand. "T-Bob, it's me, Brad. Remember me? Brad? Condor?"

The robot looked at him. "My name is Ro-Man, and I'm afraid I don't remember you. Are you working for VENOM as well?"

"No, I'm with MASK," he said hesitatingly.

"Brad Turner? The racer?" The robot cried out in terror and quickly grabbed a broom from the hallway closet and stood in front of Vanessa defensively. "I must ask you to leave at once, Sir."

"It's OK, Ro-Man," said Vanessa smugly. "I invited him here. But I'll let you search him for weapons."

Turner stood by feeling rather confused and somewhat humiliated as he got a thorough pat-down from the robot. "Your pocket-knife, please, Sir," said Ro-Man.

He fished it out of his jeans and handed it to the robot.

"Thank you, Sir."

"What's for dinner, Ro-Man?" Vanessa asked him.

"I made chicken alfredo with primavera vegetables and spinach," he answered, handing the knife to Vanessa, who promptly handed it back to Brad the moment the robot's back was turned. "And there's lemon chiffon cake for dessert."

Seated now at the dining table, Brad watched in disbelief as Ro-Man served them, bringing out salads first and then a bottle of wine. He popped the cork on the bottle, filled the glasses, and then went back into the kitchen. "So tell me how you ended up with this 'Ro-Man'."

"Well, like you said, VENOM captured him. We finally noticed that the little guy seemed to keep showing up along with MASK, and so Miles put two-and-two together."

"And...?"

"And he was worthless. Apparently someone had installed a suicide circuit on him that not only deleted his memory banks but physically destroyed them as well." Vanessa sipped her wine. "Mayhem had hoped to gain so much from him...names, data, vehicle specs, plans, the location of MASK's headquarters. And then the 'bot just said 'goodbye cruel world' and partially self-destructed. It was rather a bit of a shock."

"I see," said Brad, looking over at Ro-Man who had come back in and was taking their empty salad plates off of the table.

"Miles was furious. He had gotten his hopes up so much, only to be thwarted so easily." She turned to the robot and put her hand on his head. Instinctively he froze. "See that dent there?" she asked, turning him slightly.

Brad looked and sure enough there was a good solid dent in the mechanoid's metal body.

"Miles' shoeprint. He was seriously pissed."

"I guess so."

"We hauled him off to several computer and robotics experts to see if anything could be extracted from him, but they all said that the critical parts had been totally melted down."

"Good old Bruce," Brad mouthed inaudibly.

She patted Ro-Man on the head. "Thank you, Ro-Man." And he beamed and went back to the kitchen.

"I see."

"And after a few days he woke back up and was functioning and talking. The others were suspicious, but I had him checked out to make sure he wasn't carrying any spyware or cameras or listening devices or anything like that. And now he just takes care of me."

Ro-Man returned with the main course, neatly dished out onto two plates. He set Vanessa's down first, then Brad's, and picking up the wine bottle again he topped off their glasses.

Brad suddenly began to laugh.

"What?"

"Just irony." The same unwavering devotion the machine had once given to Scott Trakker was now being given to VENOM's chief agent.

"Well you can't have him back. You're mine now, aren't you, Ro-Man?"

The robot smiled at her with his eyes. "I've always been yours and I'm yours forever, my dear."

Turner shook his head and laughed again and took up his dinner fork. "So, why the name 'Ro-Man?" he asked.

"Well, it just sort of evolved. First we just called him 'Robot,' and then we started calling him 'Robot Monster' as in that horrible old B-movie. And then it just got shortened into 'Ro-Man,' which was the name of the alien in the movie."

"And when in Rome, do as the Ro-Man's do," giggled the robot.

"I see your lousy sense of humor was not deleted along with the rest of your memories," he said to Ro-Man.

"My memories were never deleted. I woke up and there was my master. Well in this case, my mistress." He put his hands around Vanessa's arm lovingly.

Brad shook his head. "T-Bob, you wouldn't believe some of the stories I could tell you about you."

"My name isn't T-Bob. It's Ro-Man," he stated, slightly offended. "I'll be in the kitchen washing dishes if you need anything." The robot did an about-face and stomped off.

Turner sighed and took a bite of the sliced chicken laid atop the pasta. "I still can't believe it," he said. "All this time he's been missing and he was right here with you."

"So what was he? We knew he was connected to MASK somehow, but we couldn't figure out in what function he served."

"Trakker's domestic servant. He worked around the house and was mostly a companion to his kid."

"Seriously? That's what he was built for?" She shot Turner a look. "Well, that would explain a few things. He kept trying to do our laundry and cook dinner for us and basically kept acting like a mom."

Brad shrugged.

"You know, I should have you pass my thanks along to whoever built him. He's been the perfect man. Always looking after me...always thinking about me. Absolutely perfect. He doesn't mind my mood swings, and he makes a good cup of coffee."

"Really? Sounds like a tough act to follow."

"What do you mean?"

Brad looked up at her. For once his sunglasses were off. "I was hoping that you and I could get a little bit closer, but it seems that I have competition." 

"What are you saying? Or insinuating?" Her full defenses were up again.

"I'm saying just that I'd like to be closer to you, but there's no way I could ever be perfect, not like your Ro-Man there."

Vanessa looked at him, somewhat puzzled but with her ears open.

"But if you'd settle for a less than perfect man, maybe you could accept all my short-comings."

"What are you proposing, Hummingbird?"

Brad winced. It wasn't often that she used his old code-name, a name that had died very quickly when Trakker retired Condor and assigned him Razorback. "I want to know if you're serious about us, about perhaps letting down your guard and perhaps acting a little more relaxed around each other."

"I've let you into my house. If you're just trying to get into my bed as well, forget it."

"It would be part of the plan."

Vanessa glared at him. "At least you're honest."

"Damn straight I am." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet-flocked box. "Take it or leave it," he said, leaning across the table and setting it down in front of her.

Her fork nearly fell out her hand.

She reached for the box, terrified and excited at the same time.

The box housed exactly what it looked like it would—a large diamond solitaire, very obviously an engagement ring.

Unwanted tears flooded her eyes and threatened to fall. Over the years there had been many proposals, mostly from sleazeball contacts, Mile's cronies, and once from Maximus...that night in Mexico he'd had far too much scotch. None had been ever truly legitimate and she had deadened herself to any man's declaration of love. So for a moment she was seized with the fear that Turner was simply toying with her. She picked up the box and peered at the ring.

Years of experience and sharp eyes told her the ring was the real thing—a gorgeous pure white diamond without any visible flaws, probably mined in Malynera, probably just over a carat and a half in size. "You're serious?"

Brad allowed himself to breathe again. "Dead serious." The seconds had gone by excruciatingly. And she was crying now. Hopefully they were tears of happiness.

Embarrassed by her show of emotion, she quickly grabbed her napkin and dabbed her eyes.

Brad rose and walked to her side of the table. He took her hands, still holding the box, and guided her to her feet. "Will you?"

"We...we hardly know each other."

"I've read your criminal record. I know enough to make this decision." He leaned in and kissed her, his lips gently flirting with hers.

"You have a strange way of proposing," Vanessa said when the kiss ended, her voice still choked with emotion. And then she quickly pulled the ring from its box and slid it onto her finger. It was a bit large, but that was fixable. She threw her arms around his waist and he his arms around her shoulders and they kissed again.

Ro-Man walked in asking how they liked the entree. And seeing Vanessa in Brad's arms he immediately feared the worst. Rushing the few steps forward he seized Brad and threw him to the floor. "Unhand her. I'm going to call security!"

Vanessa began laughing. "Ro-Man! It's okay. It's okay!"

"Was he forcing himself on you? Did he threaten you?"

"No." She giggled...actually giggled. "He was asking me to marry him."

The robot froze, processed the information for a moment, and then looked aghast. "And did you accept?"

She held up her hand, displaying the engagement ring.

The robot's hands flew to his mouth bar and he squealed. "A wedding! There's going to be a wedding!" he said excitedly. And then he suddenly remembered that he had tossed the groom to the floor. Quickly he stepped over and helped Brad to his feet, dusting off non-existent dust and brushing his clothes into place. "I am so sorry, Sir." he apologized over and over.

"It's okay, T-Bob...I mean, Ro-Man."

The robot smiled. "Congratulations, Sir. I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

Turner smiled at his newly-won fiancee. "If she can love a less than perfect man, I'm sure we will be very happy together. And I'm certain we'll keep you around so I have a good role model."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The End

-o-o-o-o-o-

M.A.S.K. and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of DIC Enterprises, Inc and Kenner Toys. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	2. The Perfect Man Commentary

The Perfect Man Commentary

-o-o-o-o-o-

Scene one happens right after the first episode of the Racing Series, "Demolition Duel to the Death."

Scene two happens a couple weeks after Episode 55: "Plunder of Glowworm Grotto" and my story "Runaways."

Scene three happens at some point after T-Bob's rebuild but before the Racing series begins. Given how many times VENOM and T-Bob crossed paths, it's surprising that no one caught on earlier.

Scene four happens after the conclusion of the Racing Series, following the Cliffshipping theories.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the Racing Series PSA's, it seems the VENOM agents are all shacking up with Miles, but I figured Vanessa would have special privileges. I also have this theory that Rax was no longer up to the job, perhaps because of injuries. That's why he got to hang out in the Pitstop Catapult thing (yawn) and do Mayhem's yardwork. Who knows...perhaps he had a secret love of gardening all along.

Despite having his memory deleted, T-Bob would retain his basic programming. He'd be like a newborn fawn, waking up full of instincts on what he's supposed to do. Some of his basic personality characteristics would remain as well, such as his distaste for adventure and his sense of humor.

The comment about Sato's wife and kids was inspired by some misinformation found on the internet when I was looking for details on some of the other agents.

The scene with Ranjit is an interesting one to me. If you read it from a human perspective, Ranjit's just some bookish IT guy showing up to do a job, coffee mug in one hand, computer in the other. If you read it from T-Bob's perspective, it's a seriously creepy, scary scene. Ranjit is some malicious interrogator/ torturer/ rapist who won't care what happens to his subject. He's just there to get the information out by any means possible.

Hummingbird... I have a partial story in which the agents are all undercover and using their codenames. Later in the story Vanessa is captured and held for questioning by MASK. One of her tormentors she connects to Condor, and says: "You're that annoying little hummingbird, aren't you! The green motorcycle-helicopter thing." She keeps calling him Hummingbird and soon the rest of the agents are doing it as well.

Malynera is a fictional island nation from the manga/anime series "Patalliro!" I have a crossover in the works between MASK and Patalliro! in which the diamonds of Malynera are a major plot point. If I get it finished, it will be a hilarious comedy piece with something of an old-school spy movie feel.


End file.
